Dustin blinked.
“I didn't know what that meant,” Greg continued, because the words were spilling now and he couldn't stop them anymore. “I wondered if maybe it's about sleeping positions, and I guess in a way it is, but not how I was thinking at all. And there's articles, and I read them, and I learned about lubrications and the importance of preparation and I keep thinking?—”
“You keep thinking what?” Dustin looked very curious now. Amused too, but mostly curious. And interested.
Some of the heat left Greg's face and pooled in his lower body instead. “I keep thinking that I… that we…”
Dustin's mouth twitched. He leaned closer. “Do you want me to fuck you, Greg?” he asked. “Or do you want to fuck me?” He posed the question in a casual way, but his gaze darkened as he added, “I'm good with either.”
Greg's entire body went hot.
“I—” Greg started. “The — in the articles?—”
“Forget the articles.” Dustin shifted so his mouth was near Greg's ear and his hand was on Greg's thigh and the soap-and-skin smell of him was everywhere. “What do you want?”
“You.” Greg's voice came out rough. “Over me. I want —I want to feel—” He didn't know how to articulate his desire. He settled on, “Everything.”
He didn't think that was a useful response, but Dustin seemed to disagree. His hand tightened on Greg's thigh.
“That can be arranged,” he said.
“I've never?—”
“I know.”
“The articles said it's important to?—”
“Greg.” Dustin pulled back enough to look at him. “Trust me?”
“Yes,” Greg said immediately.
Dustin rose and held out his hand. “Let's move this to the bedroom, then.”
Greg looked at Dustin — standing there in sweatpants and nothing else, damp hair, the tattoos and the piercings and the easy confidence of a man who had never been unsure about what his body could do.
Greg took his hand. “All right.”
The bedroom window was open too, letting in the cool evening air.
Dustin closed the door, leaving the overhead light off, the room lit only by the lamp on the bedside table. He turned toward Greg, who was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.
“Relax,” Dustin said. “This isn't a test.”
“I know.” Greg made himself relax his shoulders. He wanted this. He wanted it so much he could barely think.
Dustin smiled, soft and amused. He approached and ran his hand through Greg's hair, tilting hisface up for a kiss.
It started gentle, a slide of lips, a tease of tongue. Dustin's mouth was warm, and his body was solid against Greg's, and the kiss turned deeper, Dustin's tongue claiming his, his hand sliding down Greg's back, over his hips, drawing them together.
This was good. This, Greg could lose himself in, let go of everything but the sensation of Dustin's tongue and the metal of that piercing touching the roof of his mouth. Dustin's hands were on his ass, pulling their bodies flush, and Greg could feel Dustin hardening against his thigh.
This was familiar territory.
Before long, they were falling onto the mattress together, the way they often did, Dustin on top of Greg, kissing Greg's jaw, his neck, his collarbone, their groins pressed together.
Greg's hips made that small helpless motion that usually made Dustin grind against him in response, but instead Dustin paused to look at Greg, his hair falling over his forehead, his eyes bright with desire. His breath came fast.
“We don't have to do anything you're not ready for,” he said. “We can keep doing this if you want.” His hips rolled in a slow circle, sending sparks of pleasure through Greg's body. “This is good too.”
